Embers of Sacrifice
by Roza Chameleon Redbird
Summary: She had sacrificed it all to give them a chance, a chance at victory. But would the cost be worth it? *Picks up where book five left off* *Chapter one ending has been edited from original*
1. The Abyss

**A/N: So, looks like I've found a new fandom I love and that gives me many plot bunnies! Sorry to all my GG fanfic readers, I love the series but in the end I grew up and the series didn't grow with me as a writer; it ended up with me feeling stagnant and unable to grow so I left it behind unfinished (and that kills me). To the new readers, hope you enjoy my writing and I won't say this'll become a multi chapter thing but I'm also saying it won't - won't be a multi chaptered thing. ;)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I'm not Sarah J. Maas, nor will I ever be. I get no profit from this and do not own any of the characters.**

 ***TRIGGER WARNING* - just wanted to make sure you all knew this is dark. I'm trying to stay truthful to what I think is going to happen. So please tread carefully if dark themes are a trigger for you.**

* * *

The Abyss

Aelin felt the mask bump into the top of the coffin, felt the deep ridges of her back slide along the blood covered bottom. Agony, that was all she knew as she tried to take shallow breaths to limit her movement. At least the rest of them would survive. Elide was safe, help was coming from across the world. Terrassen had a king and an imposter queen.

Terrasen would be saved.

 _Terrasen was safe._

That thought would keep her going until her end, whenever that would be.

She knew Maeve had long plans for her and her apparently immortal life. She knew Cairn would play a big part in them too. She also knew she'd never give them the satisfaction of answers and seeing her pain. But she was still terrified. The idea of him, the sadist, made her magic flare.

Pain surrounded her as it did. She lost her self in it, digging deep into her core trying desperately to melt the iron. A fool's errand though it was.

 _Burn._

Sweat dipped down her brow and turned into steam as it reached the mangled flesh at her back. The world around her flickered in and out of sight as she hit the ash covered bottom of her depleted power. A burnout was coming but she didn't care. She wanted it all to burn.

Her skin was alight with inner flames, not able to leave her body with all the iron surrounding her. A flicker of light came from within her skin as she stood at the bottom of her magical pit and lost herself to the pull of the flame. Aelin stayed on that ashy floor, planted herself in her own abyss.

She forgot her name as she begged for more power and from somewhere, it responded. Filled her soul. More, she wanted more of it. So she stomped on that floor, begging for more for it to not be the end. Let it take me.

 _Terrassen was safe._

 _Terrassen?_ She didn't know a Terrassen.

The floor cracked. More. More of it all.

She screamed noiselessly as it ripped through her heart, some part of her begging for it to stop –

The power came rushing through that crack and turned it into a canyon. Her power grew, maturing further and closer to its final size. And she fell. Fell down into her own abyss and lost herself within the maelstrom of flame that had nowhere else to go.

* * *

Rowan grasped for the other side of the bed roll. His hand blindly reaching out for the body he craved to protect and tuck under him. His wife, his mate. Not fully awake, he tried pulling her to him even though she'd call him a territorial fae bastard.

His hand hit the cold burlap of the bed roll next to him and he remembered.

Aelin was gone.

He'd been too late to save her from Maeve and now she was in a coffin, somewhere in the world. His magic rose up around him, shuffling his hair as he fell into a panicked haze. He needed her, needed her to be with him.

Springing from the bed, he went to grab his sword as a dark power rolled over and froze him in his tracks.

"Rowan," said Lorcan as he used his dark powers to freeze him. The haze grew, air whipping in the small boat faster and faster. "Rowan. Calm down, fight it."

He couldn't, he needed to go find her now. Now. His instincts told him to pull on their bond, a bond that Aelin had never spoken to him about out of love and selflessness.

Aelin.

He called to her over the bond –

And got no response.

"Rowan, you're going to break this boat apart!" Lorcan yelled as he increased his hold on him. "Damn it! Control it, remember who you are. A prince."

Act like a prince, she had told him once while trying to get him to control his instincts. _Act like a prince_.

His body sagged and with a contemplative look in his eye, Lorcan released his hold. This had happened every day he woke up since the day she was captured. The blinding panic and roar of power rushing through him. Lorcan usually stopped him before he did something regrettable, like killing the boat staff.

He glared at Lorcan and stalked to the bow of the small boat taking them from Wendlyn. Where they had searched for any sign of her for weeks. And found nothing.

He briefly wondered how everyone else was doing on their appointed tasks. He hadn't heard any news from his friends since they left that god forsaken shore. He hoped they had fared better than him.

Hands clenched on the railing he tried to tug on the bond again, tried to feel her in his soul. Nothing again. He knew this meant the chances that she was still alive were slim, he was not a fool. But that deep encompassing pain that radiated across his body, pulsing and digging so deep he could barely breathe, didn't let him believe it. She had to be alive. No matter how much time passed. No matter how Lorcan's gaze had turned to pity over the last few weeks.

But the bond was silent and there were only two ways that could be. Death and something nearly just as bad, a broken mind. Nearly, though, was still better in the end. So he knew he'd keep searching for her until he found her. He would keep looking, to whatever end.

* * *

Aelin.

 _Who was that?_ The flame did not know.

Something was pulling on her, trying to drag her upwards, out of the eye of the storm where she sat.

 _She?_

She was fire, no, she –

She was Aelin.

Awareness raced back into her as another pull echoed from above. Aelin tried to grab onto the flames, use them as anchors as terror raced through her. No, no. She would not go back; she would stay in her abyss. Tears of fire burned down her face as the anchors began to give. She did not want to know what they would do to her once she resurfaced from her pit.

Something pulled at her again, more forcefully than before.

And Aelin opened her eyes to see the Queen of the Fae standing above her, a wicked smile pulled across her lips. Her cheek was pressed to the ground, her body curled into fetal position as her blood pooled around her. Fenrys stood next to her, eyes savage as he tried to break out of Maeve's hold and help her. She knew she must be a terrible sight.

"Welcome back Aelin." Said Maeve. She had gotten better at pulling her out of her own mind, the one survival mechanism she had left. That abyss in her mind, her soul, her power, had kept her relatively sane as they tortured her both mentally and physically.

She looked back at Fenrys, eyeing the bloody whip in his hands. That, she knew, was how they got her back. Maeve was getting better at forcing her to return. Slowly fine tuning where and how she would hit her to force her body to protect itself by resurfacing her mind. Not that she could protect herself though, locked in this rutting hole in the mountain surrounded by iron and ice.

They had laced the whip with iron dust, to pull any residual magic she had out of her system. It tingled in her back, sending out pulsing waves in response to the constant rush of fire under her skin that just begged to break free.

"Get her up," Maeve ordered at Fernys as her blood red lips pulled into a sensual smile.

Fenrys tried to be gentle as he grabbed her under her arms but Aelin couldn't help the gasp that left her throat at the movement. He looked so devastated as he put her in even more pain. Aelin tried to give him a small smile with her cracked lips, to make him know that she didn't blame him but it turned to a grimace as her chains pulled towards the ground.

"Since you still refuse to tell us who holds the two wyrdkeys," she paused and stalked closer to Aelin, a wicked gleam entering her immortal eyes, "I've decided that you need some proper motivation."

That was when Aelin noticed Cairn in the corner of the dark cave, leaning casually on something that had not been there before. There were two more of those things, rutting annoying how dark it was in here, and they tickled her memory. It looked like, it looked like –

Aelin stiffened as she realized where she had seen that before, in Ardarlan. She could smell the remorse and terror flowing off Fenrys, as she let out a single breathy "No."

Maeve laughed at the stricken expression on her face, "Yes. It is exactly what you think it is." She motioned for Cairn to come closer, "Since you refuse to give us what I want. I've decided to take a page out of the former King of Ardarlan's book." She looked back at Aelin, "I wonder, how long will you last now without your power? Who will you be?" She stalked over to Aelin, who glared directly back into her eyes. "I, for one, think you'll be nothing but a scared little girl begging for mercy by the day's end."

Aelin didn't give them the pleasure of seeing her fear as she felt the truth in the queen's words. Without her magic, if those towers really could take them away, she'd have no abyss to escape to when it all became too much.

"Fenrys take her over to Cairn." Fenrys did as ordered, gently picking her up and trying to avoid all her injuries. "And Fenrys?" She felt him go rigid as she pulled on the oath, "I forbid you from being gentle."

Fenrys began to tremble as he tried to resist her command but in the end he couldn't. His fingers moved from there relatively painless positions to dig into her freshly opened wounds. Aelin attempted to struggle against him and get out but she couldn't. Despite her natural fae healing skills and the two times Maeve had healed her since her capture, the blood loss, new cuts and lack of food and water made her too weak. Blackness began to creep around the edges as she bit her tongue to keep from screaming.

 _Yes._ It would be good to pass out.

She wasn't granted that mercy.

Aelin could tell exactly when she reached the center of the objects meant to strip her of her magic. She felt the encompassing pressure die down, it felt like losing a limb. Fenrys threw her down on the table in the center of the triangle. He kept whispering _sorry, I'm so sorry,_ to her as he was forced to chain her arms and legs down on the table, tightening the chains until her arms and legs strained from the pull.

Laying there, prostrate in just a small scrap of underwear Aelin tried to control her breathing. She could ride this out. She knew she could. She didn't turn her head as she sensed Cairn coming to stand before her, a small knife in hand.

"Oh what fun we'll have." He said as he lightly traced her breast with the knife.

Maeve stayed outside the magicless triangle but continued to give orders, "Tell us Aelin. Tell us who has the wyrdkeys."

"No."

She closed her eyes as she smelled the happiness roll of Cairn as the queen gestured for him to begin.

Aelin kept her eyes closed as pain sliced through her methodically and without remorse. She tried desperately to not whine or whimper but couldn't help it. She hurt so much. Her breathing came more labored, each breath pulling at injuries both old and new. She tried so hard to keep her mind steady, to make the cold metal at her back keep her sane as she couldn't retreat into her power.

"Tell us who has the wyrdkeys Aelin." She heard Maeve say with no inflection in her voice.

Aelin, who wanted so badly to just thrash and attempt to break free couldn't help the snarl that ripped through her throat, "Never. I will never tell you!" With her pain glazed eyes she glared at the queen with all the vengeance and anger she could muster.

Time lost all meaning on that table as her body began to tremble. She knew the cuts weren't deep enough to kill her, even if the part of her wished that they were. But she had promised – she had promised herself – that she would survive and fight until the day Maeve finally decided to kill her.

Her mind automatically tried to burrow into her abyss, searching for that escape, so she could lose herself and not be Aelin, just fire with nowhere to go. She tried but couldn't, it felt like hitting a wall. The blackness started creeping around the edge of her vision. Yes, yes _please_ she couldn't help but think as she panted. At least that would help her a bit.

The splash of iron and salt infused water across her body had her body arching and eyes flying wide open. The burn, it burned. Made her feel like Halas himself was pushing her to her brink.

"Maeve, please, _please_." She heard Fenrys beg in the back of her mind. She turned her head to the sound but the pain was too much, she couldn't focus on the one ally she had in this forsaken hellhole. Her eyes stared unseeingly as Cairn did his worst.

"Please, I'll do anything. Stop it, she can't take it." Aelin was gone, mind temporarily broken as Fenrys dropped to his knees in front of the queen, tears falling from his eyes. His hands grasping the edge of her dark sweeping dress. The queen ignored his pleas as she watched, almost entranced at the sight of a naked Aelin, breaking. She was entranced by the slow cracks she saw forming in Aelin's psyche. _Soon,_ Maeve thought, _soon she'll be broken and mine._

That iron and salt mixing in her wounds was all Aelin felt as time continued, the burn the pull of blood mixing to make a deadly concoction that dripped, dripped, dripped down from the table edges and pooled in the cracks of the rocky floor.

Maeve motioned for Cairn to stop, she needed Aelin present after all. Fenrys just gazed at the floor, nearly as unseeingly as the broken queen on the table. He promised vengeance to himself, for the cruelty of his master. _I'll kill her for you,_ he promised Aelin silently as the hate grew in his soul.

Aelin's eyes closed as the burn began to fade, her body shaking from the cold that was replacing it. Slowly, her mind tried to fill in the fissures that had grown without her abyss to fall into. Minutes passed as Cairn and Maeve waited with baited breath to see if Aelin would return.

Aelin's breath evened out as she finally came back. Through sheer power of will she lifted her head to glare at Maeve. Lips pulled back into a snarl. "I will _kill_ you. When I get out, nothing, _nothing will save you."_

Maeve just laughed in response.

Fenrys tried to crawl to Aelin, to offer the one source of comfort to Aelin that Maeve had not forbidden from him yet. A simple touch, a reminder to Aelin that he was still there. She was not completely alone. He got within the triangle before Maeve noticed him and forbade him to move any further.

His body went slack.

"Now Aelin," Maeve finally moved in the triangle, "Would you like the pain to stop?" She took a sharpened nail and gently caressed her cheek. "Would you like it all to end? Just tell me, tell me who has the wyrdkeys and where you believe the third to be and I will end it. I can see it in your eyes that you crave death. Would you like that? Death?"

Aelin just glared as Maeve moved her finger down her face, towards one of the incisions on her abdomen. Mouth tight in defiance –

Even if, even if some secret part of her wanted to die.

"No. Never." She snarled back at them, barely any humanity left in her gaze.

"Very well then." She dug her sharpened nail into the gaping wound at her navel.

Aelin screamed.

And then Maeve turned to leave. Leaving Aelin harshly breathing, bloody and bound to an iron table in the darkness of a mountainside. Aelin closed her eyes, a solitary tear falling from her eye. Without her abyss, she knew, she wouldn't hold out much longer.

* * *

Days had passed since that first day on the table. They had all come and gone over and over. Now, it had been days since Aelin saw another living soul. Even animals didn't dare come this far into the mountain. Into the cold. Her hunger had reaching dizzying heights. Her body had long ago gone numb on that table where they continually kept torturing and leaving her. Her mind slowly retreating into itself.

* * *

She barely heard or saw a thing as the days passed. To her each day was like a minute, or like a year, she never knew. She savored it though, that silence in her tomb. It meant no pain, at least temporarily. Each day, though, her mind broke a little more. She came back to less and less frequently.

* * *

When Aelin's mind next resurfaced, she was no longer on the table. Instead, she was in a cell. Her head whipped back and forth as she tried to figure out where she was, body curling up into a ball as she rocked back and forth in the dark. So dark, so dark. She was shaking and hyperventilating. Soon darkness encroached, she welcomed it.

* * *

Aelin felt more then heard something come to her as she stared at the wall. She was fully naked now. She knew you could barely tell with all the grime and dried blood covering her skin and matting her hair. She didn't know when she lost her underwear but somewhere in the back of her mind she could feel the bruises on her inner thighs. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew what it meant.

She didn't know how long she'd been in the complete darkness of the cell. Days, months, years it was all the same to her now. She just wanted to end. They kept her in an iron cell but she barely noticed. She was too gone to notice she had her abyss to fall into again. Had her magic. Too far gone to notice any options for escape.

Something came at her then, it pressed their hands to the side of her face, trying to make her see. She just stared blankly at whatever was in front of her, not caring. No longer caring about anyone or anything.

An inkling of self-preservation came rushing through her then and she ripped herself from the hands that had so gently been touching her face. She pushed her emaciated body into the corner of the dark cell and began to rock back and forth. Curling up into the smallest ball possible to be as far away from whatever it was.

A mantra of, "No more, no more, no more…" spilling continuously from her lips.

* * *

He smelled her as soon as her reached the door at the bottom of the tower. Never, never in a million years had he thought to look in Ardarlan for her. He still couldn't understand why Maeve had her under the old towers that had once been used to strip the magic away. He would thank Gavriel to his dying breath for his suggestion to look here after they had exhausted all other avenues. If they got out alive. He wondered how long he had to look through the long corridor of iron cell after iron cell. He knew from what Aelin had told him before, that this was where the Valg infested King of Ardarlan had kept his original projects. He hoped, he desperately hoped nothing like that had been done to her. He knew thankfully, that even thrice cursed Maeve had her limits.

Aelin's scent kept getting stronger and stronger.

"ROWAN." He heard Gavriel yell loudly somewhere down the corridor.

Rowan sprinted, using his magic to blast open the door at the end of the hall. She was here, he had found her.

"ROWAN!" The despair in Gavriel's voice had his heart pounding in fear. He looked up ahead, the blind panic in his soul manifesting in wind the whipped and pulled through the corridor. His mate, he had found her. _But would she still be in there?_

He stopped that traitorous thought in its tracks. She had to be okay, she had to be -

He felt his heart stop when he finally saw her. Dirty, naked and whispering to herself in the corner of a damp cell.

He looked over at Gavriel, who was standing there looking lost. Some part of Rowan broke as she saw the defeat in the other male's gaze. He opened his mouth and closed it not wanting to ask the question he so desperately needed answered.

Rowan cleared his throat, and then he whispered in a voice he barely recognized as his own, "Is she…?"

In answer Gavriel just put a hand on his shoulder and nodded his head. "She's Alive but Rowan… she's not responding."

Rowan began to shake, refusing to believe it. Aelin, Aelin, dear god, Aelin –

He dropped to his knees and started crawling to her, "Aelin, it's me…"

Gavriel's voice sounded strangled from behind him, "I don't think she can hear us Rowan."

All the while, Aelin just kept whispering to herself unseeingly in the corner of the cell. She wasn't even chained, Rowan thought. How… how thoroughly had they destroyed her so she posed so little threat?

Slowly, treating her like a feral animal he placed a hand on her scrawny shoulder. He could feel every bone in that arm.

Aelin whipped her head around to the feeling but there was no Aelin in the gaze. A part of his soul fractured at the sight. "Aelin, it's me. We found you…" _but not soon enough,_ he added to himself. _Not nearly soon enough._

Gavriel's voice was nearly silent behind him, "Rowan… We, we need to move. Lorcan is buying us time but we need to get out of here fast."

Hearing but not hearing him, Rowan nodded. His eyes never veering from the once again rocking Aelin. He tried to put his arms around her to grab her and move her but the answering flinch had him pause. Anger raced through his heart, he would _kill_ them. Kill them all for what they had done to her. But first he needed to get her to safety. That instinctual part of him that needed to see her safe was stronger than the one for vengeance.

"I think we should knock her out." Whispered Gavriel from behind him as he began to move forward, poised to hit her on the head with the handle of his knife.

Rowan instinctively snarled and turned his body to protect her. Ready to kill Gavriel if he took another step.

"Rowan, you know we need to, if she snaps out of it she'll fight us." Gavriel said, though, he didn't move another inch. Knowing if he did, Rowan would likely attack him.

A minute passed before Rowan truly registered what Gavriel said. Then he slumped and brokenly said, "Then I'll do it." His hand went for his blade, just the idea of doing this was breaking him soul.

When he was poised to hit her on the head, his hand shook. Hitting her was like stabbing himself in his heart. He knew though, that if he wanted to get her out of here, they'd have to leave now. If they didn't Maeve would realize the fake trail Lorcan had made to give them time to find her wasn't real.

"I'm so sorry." Was all he said as he caressed Aelin's shaking arm.

His strike was strong and true as he hit her in the temple. He caught her before she could hit the ground. Devastation racing through his heart as he picked her up and felt just how small she had become. Once he had her in his hands, he nodded to Gavriel to say he was ready to go.

Before he could move out of the cell, Gavriel stopped him by putting a hand up towards him, "She needs a shirt." Slowly, to not cause Rowan to go into another blind panic he took off his bloody and torn shirt, handing it to him.

Rowan looked down at the unconscious girl in his arms and nodded at Gavriel, helping him put the shirt on her body. He tried not to think about the bruises he saw on her, the scabs. He could think later, when they were as far away from here as they could be.

Once she was covered, Rowan and Gavriel ran.

With each step Rowan took, his heart broke more and more. He would kill them, kill them all.

They quickly left the tower, passing over the dead bodies of the guards around the tower. Maeve's power cloaked the building, which had masked Aelin's presence but since they knew where this tower was, they had been able to find it.

They didn't stop running until they were miles away, nearing the small farmhouse where Evangeline was now living. They needed a healer, they needed one now. Rowan's breath was labored as they reached the small house. They only time they had stopped running before this was to shove a sleeping tonic down Aelin's throat when she had originally gained consciousness.

He knew the memory of her weakly trying to jump out of his arms, not recognizing who it was that held her would forever haunt his dreams. He promised himself then, that no matter how long it took, he'd wait for her to come back to him.

* * *

 **A/N: Review please! All criticism and thoughts welcome. Also, please let me know if anyone wants me to continue this!**


	2. A Winter's Sky

**A/N: Well, hello everyone! It has definitely been awhile! Sorry about the long wait, life got in the way! THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone that reviewed the first chapter, I was so flabergasted at the response! OVER 70 REVIEWS ON ONE CHAPTER! It's unreal. So unreal, that I'm actually almost done with the next chapter! Until then though, enjoy!**

* * *

Rowan barely slept in the following days. He just sat there, looking, watching, _hoping_ , something would change. She was just… just so small. Her body limp on the bed surrounded by clean but worn pillows and a fraying blanket.

With a shaking hand, Rowan gently touched her cheek. So cold and still, like there was no life underneath it. Even now as she slept, Aelin's lips were pursed and her body tense from pain he couldn't heal. Pain that a woman he used to _admire_ inflicted on her for years, gods be damned _years._

Aelin just laid on the bed, unaware of his inner monologue, looking de–

No, he couldn't think like that. Not now, not ever. Even at the slightest thought of that word Rowan felt a pulsing pain in his chest, yanking his heart as if by a cord. No, she would be alright.

 _Not if she doesn't wake up soon._

He clenched his jaw to shut that thought out of his mind too.

He promised then, that he would kill Maeve. Painfully. Slowly. Until she begged - begged much her voice was hoarse from the pleading, lips cracked from screaming – for death.

Rowan felt his blood stir and the air around him turn cold. Quickly, he stopped the chill from getting anywhere near his queen, he couldn't let her get any worse.

Softly, he let his finger lightly caress her face, her lightly pointed ear. She had been out for five full days now. Five full days of painful waiting for some sign of life besides the light rise and fall of her chest.

He'd wait, he knew, no matter how long it took for her to get better. Rowan heaved a sigh and ran his scarred hand through his hair. Lips pursed in an effort to keep his raging instincts under control, he glanced out the window and watched as the first snow fall of the season added a sense of serenity to scenery.

Rowan snorted at that, _serenity my ass._

His fae eyes quickly noticed a shift in the trees closest to their small cabin. His body tensed and his blood turned to ice in his veins, everything in him clenching in anticipation of fighting to protect his mate.

Rowan watched as a pair of antlers appeared at the edge of the wood. The animal was beautiful. A light coat that nearly matched the snow lined forest floor, its head held high. The stag seemed to stare at him, its gaze as fierce as it was direct. For a second, Rowan thought it might actually be a fae, his hand grasping the dagger at his waist instinctually.

He let himself relax, though, when the stag just cocked its head towards a sound he couldn't hear and then galloped back into wilderness. Its white coat gleaming under the stars.

His mind still scanning the outside for threats, he almost didn't notice the shift on the bed. He almost didn't hear the small gasp and quickening heart rate.

He felt his heart squeeze as he quickly glanced back at the bed, his body preternaturally still as he watched two wide eyes looking him over and then around the room.

She was awake, finally, _finally._

Still trying not to move and make any sound as to not startle her, he just sat on the arm chair, frozen. His eyes taking in every detail of her suddenly expressive face like an alcoholic looking at a bottle of aged whisky.

Aelin, oh gods Aelin.

Not able to take it any longer, he dropped to his knees in front of the bed. His body shaking as tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

Her turquoise eyes snapped to him as he moved, his fae ears picking up her racing heart. He watched as she began to try and mouth a word.

" _Aelin._ " His voice was guttural as his knees dug into the wooden floors. Her gaze, oh gods, her gaze. It was a like a stab to the heart. She looked so scared, so untrusting. "Aelin, fireheart, it's okay. You're safe."

Tears began to fall from her eyes, as a tortured expression came over her face. For a second, he thought she'd reach out him but then her face suddenly turned blank. Her expressive eyes dulled as she moved her head so she stared at the ceiling, her scarred hands grabbing the comforter roughly. Then, Aelin laughed a dark deep laugh that Rowan hoped to never hear again and said, "Nice try Maeve, you almost had me this time."

Maeve? What?

Oh gods. What had that evil bitch done? Had she –

Dear lords, had she created a vision of him while torturing her? Had she used him - Aelin's god forsaken mate - as a technique to try and break her?

She turned her head away from him and stared blankly at the door, eyes open but unseeing, her breath steady and body braced. Hesitantly, Rowan reached for her arm – needing physical contact as he smelled her fear, rage, and resignation.

Her answering flinch and feral snarl stopped him short and he quickly withdrew his hand. The movement so violent, so instinctual it took his breath away. His queen, the beautiful powerful queen everyone hoped would save them, had fully given into her animalistic fae side.

"Aelin, it's me." He whispered again, letting his air drift around her lightly, moving his scent directly to her, "it's really-" his voice broke then and he had to take a second to recover, "it's really me."

Her breaths once again became labored as she clenched her scarred hands so tightly together, eyes shut to drown out the world. Her nostrils flared, once, twice and then her head whipped towards him and the most heartbreaking look entered her eyes. Glazed, as if she could scarcely believe what her senses were telling her, what was directly in front of her eyes, she raised a hand to his face. He let those fingers lightly graze his cheek, then ghost over his eyes, nose and finally his mouth. All the while he held his breath, body tense from the need to hold her – make sure she was okay but he let her do it, knowing she needed to figure it out for herself.

"Rowan," fresh tears slid down her cheeks as her hand moved to her own mouth, her head shaking back and forth, "you found me."

Not able to resist it anymore, he went to touch her – only to have her violently roll off the bed in a desperate bid to get away from him.

Oh gods, _Aelin,_ what have they done to you?

In a voice so raw, so filled with agony she said, "Don't," Her body shaking as wrapped her arms around her knees and backed into the corner of the room, "Please, _please_ don't touch me."

Rowan's mouth opened and went dry, his heart shattering even more, as he looked at her. Slowly, as if she was a wounded animal he approached her, arms open in front of him. Trying to keep his voice steady, he said, "Okay, I won't." He didn't succeed. He'd seen this before, wth other victims. The need for space, to be in control of every situation. It would take time, he knew, until she was Aelin again - the fireheart that stole the air from any room she entered. He kept his magic on high alert as he crouched in front of her, calmly.

She looked up at him then, her eyes clearer but still so broken, untrusting – even of him. Still looking at him, she sat there with preternatural stillness for a few minutes. "Could you," she licked her lips and Rowan knew that no matter what she asked of him, he'd do it, "Could you, just sit with me?"

He nodded as he slowly sat down and leaned himself against the wall, not too close but not too far from her. Every second was agony for him, not touching her, making sure she was okay. His fae instincts were roaring at him, telling him to protect her in any way he could. But he stomped down on those hard, knowing that it would do no good. What Aelin needed now, was patience and someone to cater to exactly what she wanted. They had promised each other, so long ago now in Mistward, that they'd give each other space to figure themselves out. Rowan was not going to go back on that now.

So they sat, not talking, just letting each other's presence be a balm for their fractured souls until the sun rose, clear and bright in the winter sky.

* * *

 **A/N: Review please!**


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